


Lou

by EvaStone



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-11 10:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaStone/pseuds/EvaStone
Summary: Debbie Ocean is getting out of prison and Lou Miller isn't exactly nervous, but isn't sure how Debbie's going to react to the fact that Lou...has someone.Lou and Debbie haven't been a couple for over seven years, but introducing people to Debbie Ocean has always been an interesting ride. Debbie either loves you or she hates you, and as happy as Lou is that Debbie is being released, she's not about to sacrifice her relationship for her old partner.





	1. Chapter 1

Lou wakes up first. 

She always wakes up first. Even if she's been at the club until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning, her body doesn't let her sleep past 8:00. 

She stretches, expecting her leg to find Violet. When it doesn't, she rolls a little, turning to look at the right side of the bed. 

Violet is right on the edge, curled into a ball. 

She sleeps like this a lot, or rather, she used to. When she and Lou first got together, Lou would always find her asleep like that. Curled up small, like a beaten dog finding solace in a corner. It made sense, Lou felt. Based on how she grew up. 

But Violet hasn't done this in awhile. Lou frowns in thought, hazy with waking, but quickly deduces what's going on. 

Debbie gets out of prison today. 

They haven't spoken in almost six years; just a few letters since Debbie was incarcerated. And they haven't been 'together' for seven years. Lou loves Debbie. She will always love Debbie. But not in the way that Violet is afraid of. 

Lou crawls over to Violet's sleeping body, slipping her hand, under the blankets, over her waist. Her fingers meet the familiar buttery-soft texture of one of those t-shirt dresses that Violet usually sleeps in. 

Lou lifts the shirt, smoothing her hand over the velvet skin of Violet's waist. She moves closer, pressing her mouth to that spot right below Violet's ear. 

Violet moves a little, feeling her, but is still asleep. Violet always sleeps late; is dead to the world before 10:00 am. 

Feeling her soft skin beneath her palm, Lou feels that warm neediness for Violet. 

It's been three years and Violet still makes her chest flutter. 

"Baby," Lou murmurs, her lips on Violet's neck. 

Lou moves her hand, gently pushing on Violet's legs to try and get her to stretch out a little. To not sleep curled up in a ball. 

Violet relents, letting one leg straighten as she slowly becomes more aware; more awake. 

Her chest twinges a little, feeling Lou's hands on her; her lips at her ear. 

"Hm," Violet hums, not opening her eyes yet. 

She stretches a little and Lou's hand immediately glides up her leg, slipping beneath Violet's shirt. The fingers move over hip and stomach, tickling her ribs before resting on her breast.

"What are you doing all the way over here, on the edge of the bed?" Lou asks softly. 

Violet slowly opens her eyes. She finds Lou's sapphires right in front of her, resting her chin on bent elbow. 

Lou blinks and a slow smile dances across her lips, seeing Violet's emerald-green eyes appear. 

She will never get tired of looking into them. 

Violet offers a small smile in return, but Lou reads her like a book. She can feel her anxiety; that fear inside her, and it makes Lou's heart ache. 

She reaches out and cups Violet's alabaster cheek, stroking her thumb across the velvet skin. 

"What's going on in there?" she almost whispers, gesturing towards Violet's head. 

Violet takes a deeper breath, blinking slowly awake. 

"What time is it?" she mumbles, stretching fully. 

Lou's hand never leaves her body; Violet rolls, making Lou's hand glide from her chest to her back, as Violet settles onto her stomach. 

"Early," Lou replies quietly, searching those gemstone eyes. 

Violet looks away, her mind clearly busy, and pushes her face into the pillow. Out of Lou's sight. 

Lou leans in and kisses her shoulder, lingering for a moment. 

Her need for Violet never seems to calm down. When Lou sees her, it's like her body responds immediately; two magnets unable to stay apart. 

Lou runs her hand over the raven-dark hair, long and thick and falling in loose waves. She slips her fingers through it and feels a slight shiver from Violet. She grins. She can make Violet shiver with the slightest combing of her fingers through that incredible hair. 

Violet turns her face back towards Lou. She looks at her and Lou stares back, searching her eyes. She hates when Violet's sad. Hates that deep, aching look in her impossibly green eyes. 

"Don't," Lou murmurs softly, stroking a thumb across Violet's cheek. 

 _Don't worry,_ she wants to say. But Violet would just laugh. She always does, whenever Lou tells her this. A dry, amused laugh. 

It took Lou forever to even get Violet to look at her; to maintain eye contact for longer than a second. It took an eternity to get Violet to trust her. 

When Violet stares into her, like this, Lou just wants to wrap her in her arms. 

"I should get going," Violet murmurs, rolling over as she rubs at tired eyes. 

Lou doesn't move her hand; lets it follow Violet's movements until her palm is dangerously close to her breast. She tightens her hand a little, clutching the skin beneath it. Lou frowns slightly at Violet's words. 

"Why?" she looks at her. 

Violet's eyes leave hers again; a slow blink and a distracted look. 

"Just...stuff to do. I have to go to my place," she mutters quietly. 

Lou tilts her head, staring down at her. 

"Y'know, you wouldn't have to go grab stuff from your place if you'd just move in here," she says softly. 

She's asked several times. 

Violet offers a small smile. 

"Then where would I go when you play that awful music" she asks quietly. 

Lou grins, slipping an arm underneath her and pulling Violet into her arms. She feels the slight tension in her body as she wraps her in her arms. 

"I love you," she murmurs, right near Violet's ear. 

She strokes her hair and turns in closer, kissing Violet's jawline. 

Violet exhales quietly and Lou feels her sink into her a little. Relax the slightest bit. 

"I love you, too," comes Violet's soft response. 

Lou holds her tightly for a moment longer before rolling a little so she's more over top of Violet. She releases her just enough so she can look at her. 

"Two more months," Lou says with a little grin. 

Violet can't help but return the small smile. Her lips just do it whenever Lou smiles at her. 

Two more months until they fly to California and spend two weeks on a bike, carving along the coast. 

She's not jealous, exactly. Maybe a little. But mostly she's just scared. Scared that seeing her ex, someone she was in love with once, will bring some feelings back into Lou. That Lou might choose Debbie over her. 

She doesn't understand that Lou's romantic feelings for Debbie fizzled out long before she met Violet. Their past was too busy; too thick, for them to just cut ties altogether. Lou's not in love with Debbie Ocean. She hasn't been since almost two years before Debbie even got locked up. But she loves Debbie the way you love a best friend; someone who had been a fixture for so long that they felt like family. Someone who you shared some crazy shit with. 

Lou watches Violet's mind spin like a wheel; incessant and unstopping. She strokes her fingertips along Violet's cheek until she looks at her, and then brings her mouth to hers, lingering there for a moment.

Violet's body responds like a switch being flicked on. Her heart thumps a little loudly and when Lou moves so she's on top of her, pressing her body against hers, Violet's hands move as if on their own, finding Lou's naked skin. 

She feels it like a hiccup throughout her entire body. She is powerless when it comes to Lou. 

Lou grinds against her and then her lips leave hers, trailing down to neck and shoulder; paying special attention to each breast as she slips her hand between Violet's thighs. She moans softly, her mouth vibrating against Violet's nipple, when she finds the skin between her thighs slick with moisture. 

"Oh, god, Vi," Lou murmurs, and sets her mouth back on Violet's breast just long enough to deliver a hard, impassioned suck that makes Violet gasp quietly. 

Then Lou's tongue is between her legs, smooth and precise, and Violet forgets about Debbie Ocean. She forgets that she's nervous and succumbs to Lou, falling again under her spell. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 2

Lou drives her ancient Toyota to the cemetery.

She comes here once a year, to sit in the peaceful silence and visit Danny. 

She stays in the car today, delivering a short honk to let Debbie know that she's here. She checks her phone, expecting a text from Violet, but there's nothing there. 

Lou inhales and exhales deeply. 

She's not anxious, exactly, to see Debbie. She's looking forward to seeing her, she just isn't sure how all of this is going to go down. 

Debbie had asked her to get a credit line, a few weeks before she'd been released. Seven years ago, Lou would have just done it. Asked questions later. But she's not that Lou anymore. 

No doubt Debbie has something planned, Lou just doesn't know what. 

A figure appears from the building, towing a suitcase behind her. Lou checks her phone again, thinking about Violet. 

She'd wanted Violet to be at the loft; to meet Debbie and have dinner with them, but she's not sure that's going to happen. When Violet gets stuck in her own head, it can be a battle to pull her out. 

Debbie opens the back door and swings her suitcase inside before getting in the front seat. Lou grins, reaching over and hugging her, pressing a kiss to her head. 

"Hey, take it easy," Debbie says, as Lou settles back in the driver's seat. "Been in the slammer."

"I just thought you'd changed your number," Lou replies, pressing the gas pedal. 

Debbie laughs lightly. 

"Did you get the credit line?" she asks. 

A dry smile tugs at Lou's lips. 

Right down to business. There's not much room for sentimentality in Debbie. 

"No," Lou replies, glancing at her calmly.

"Why not?" Debbie turns to her. 

Lou's meets her eyes, basically for the first time in six years. 

"Because I don't know what it's for," Lou replies, an amused smile hiding near her lips. 

Debbie scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

"Don't do that," Lou watches the road. 

"Do what?" Debbie counters. 

Lou looks over; mimics Debbie's eye-rolling scoff. 

"That's my 'My Partner Just Let Me Down' face," Debbie replies. 

"I'm not your partner," Lou glances at her. 

She's not expecting there to be any feelings left on Debbie's side, but she regards her for a moment to check. 

Debbie grins, and Lou feels a bit of relief to not see any longing in them. 

"Yet," Debbie says. 

It's Lou's turn to roll her eyes. 

* * *

"Nice place," Debbie says, as they enter the loft. 

"Thanks," Lou replies, picking up a stack of mail. "Try heating it."

Debbie laughs lightly, looking around. 

The outside hadn't been promising, but the inside is not what Debbie was expecting. The decor, the look of it, are totally Lou, but from the outside, Debbie had been expecting something less put-together. 

Then again, Lou always did have a knack for making a place home. Even when they'd lived in shitty little apartments with barely any room, Lou had added little touches to make the tiny space a comfortable place to be. 

"There's a room for you upstairs," Lou calls out. "Your stuff's up there, too."

Debbie's pleasantly surprised. She looks at Lou, who turns as she's walking, to talk to her. 

"I borrowed some of your shit," she grins. "Figured you weren't using it."

Debbie rolls her eyes, scoffing a laugh. 

Shaking her head, she walks to the stairs. 

It's the first room at the top of the stairs. Debbie sees several more doors; the last one, at the end, is open. Lou's room, she has no doubt. Lou put her in the room furthest from hers.

She can think of several reasons why, but flicks the thought aside as she enters the bedroom. She recognizes everything. Some jewelry on a dresser; a few pieces of art (stolen, of course); some articles of clothing laid across a chair in the corner. 

She goes to the closet to have a look, smiling in surprise as she finds some old favourites. She starts pawing through.

Downstairs, Lou calls Violet. 

It rings longer than usual, making Lou take a quiet, deep breath to try and quell the nervousness that this evokes in her. 

Then there's a click. 

"Hey."

Lou smiles, hearing the familiar voice. 

"Hey," she replies. "What are you doing?"

"Just...cleaning," Violet replies, distracted. 

Whenever Violet gets upset or anxious, she starts organizing. It gives her something to focus on. 

Over the years there's been times when they've had a fight or a disagreement, and Violet would start cleaning; organizing. 

If she's cleaning now, she is obviously stuck in an anxious headspace. 

"Cleaning your clean apartment?" Lou replies dryly.

It elicits a light laugh from Violet, making Lou smile. 

"Purging, then," Violet rewords.

"Purging what?" Lou frowns, amused. "Your apartment looks like a show home."

She hears the light laugh again. 

"I thought you'd be back by now," Lou says after a moment. 

Violet takes a slow breath. 

"I think I'll just...stay here tonight," she mumbles.

"Darling," Lou begins gently. 

"You guys should visit. Catch up," Violet says, sounding distracted again. 

"I want you here," Lou tells her. 

Violet takes a slow, deep breath. 

"Please don't be so nervous, love," Lou begs. "You have nothing to be afraid of. I promise."

"Yeah," Lou barely hears the word, it's so quiet. 

"I love you," Lou says, clear and firm. "More than anything."

Violet exhales, trying to be quiet, but her deep breaths don't seem to be expelling the nausea she feels. 

"I love you, too," she murmurs. 

Lou leans against the counter patiently. 

"Please come back," she asks.

Violet swallows, glancing around her apartment. 

She'd always liked living alone, but over the last year and a half, she's barely been here. She's always at Lou's, and somehow she doesn't miss living alone.

Having Lou nearby all the time had, from the start, been nothing but calming. It felt natural. 

"Darling?" Lou says gently.

Violet clears her throat. 

"Sorry," she mutters, turning to stare out the window. 

"Come back?" Lou repeats. 

Violet exhales. She has a hard time denying Lou anything. 

"Alright," she agrees softly. 

She can practically feel Lou's smile through the phone. 

"Don't take the train," Lou says. 

She is always taking care of Violet. 

It had been so bizarre, so foreign to her at first, having someone care about how she was feeling, what she was thinking; if she was cold or hungry or tired. 

It was so weird that it took months for Violet to slowly start accepting Lou's care; her love. But Lou gave it freely and generously, showering Violet with it, and was so patient as Violet learned to be taken care of sometimes. 

"I won't," Violet promises.

Debbie appears near the stairs, dressed in some of her old clothes. 

"An hour, then?" Lou says into the phone. 

"Yeah," Violet agrees. 

"In an Uber," Lou confirms. 

Violet rolls her eyes, but grins, shaking her head. 

"Yes, Lou. I won't take the train," she says dryly. 

"Hey, it's for everyone else's safety, as well as yours," Lou replies, the smile audible in her voice. 

Violet laughs softly, but it's a real laugh. 

It's an old joke. They'd only been together, exclusively, for a few months when they'd been on the train and some drunk asshole had been berating a woman. 

It turned out that the girl was his girlfriend. He was yelling at her, saying awful things, and Violet had stared.

Lou had seen a shadow pass over her eyes, then, and it had confirmed some of her theories. Violet had seen herself in that girl; had felt such heavy deja vu, that when the guy had shoved at the girl and then raised his hand, something in Violet had snapped. 

She'd moved forward faster than Lou could process and had shoved the guy to the ground before Lou could even grab at her. 

The guy smoked his head on a rail as he'd fallen, knocking him out, and Lou had pulled Violet off at the next stop and taken her home. 

It wasn't the first time Lou had witnessed Violet's fierce reaction to abuse. 

With Violet's promise to be there soon, Lou hangs up.

Debbie steps off the last stairs, coming to the kitchen. 

"Thanks for keeping all my stuff," she says. 

"No problem," Lou replies easily, slipping her phone into her back pocket. 

"I have to run out, just for a bit," Debbie tells her. "You still wanna have dinner?"

"Sure," Lou nods slowly. 

Debbie has that look in her eye. She's on a mission. Entertained, Lou raises an eyebrow. 

"Who's your target?" she asks.

Debbie laughs, heading for the door. 

"Who isn't?" she replies, with a look back at Lou. 

* * *

It's only been a few hours, but Lou misses Violet. 

She always misses her. It's maddening sometimes, the way her mind won't focus on anything because all it wants to do is think about Violet and the way her porcelain skin felt beneath Lou's fingers; the way it tasted, sweet on her tongue. 

Lou's upstairs when Violet arrives. 

Violet listens for her and then follows the noise. She finds Lou on a step-ladder in the bedroom, replacing a light bulb. 

Violet's always light on her feet, but Lou can feel her. 

"Hi, love," she says, turning as Violet steps through the doorway. 

She smiles at her. 

"It's creepy that you can do that," Violet replies dryly, walking in and dropping her bag near the closet. 

"What,  _sense_ you?" Lou laughs. 

"Whatever it is," Violet answers. 

She shrugs off her jacket and Lou steps off the ladder, coming to her. She pushes the jacket the rest of the way off, down Violet's thin wrists, and envelopes her in her arms. 

Violet's body relaxes in her arms a bit, but Lou can feel the tension still there. She's nervous, and Lou wishes she could take that away. 

She turns her face in to Violet's neck, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of her. Her lips find skin and press against it, kissing firmly. 

Violet's eye close as her body reacts by itself, melting into Lou.

Lou releases her just enough so she can palm her cheek, stroking a thumb across her cheekbone. 

Lou searches her eyes for a moment and Violet stares. 

She could drown in Lou's Mediterranean-blue eyes. She's powerless against them, and Lou herself. 

So when Lou's eyes flash quickly with wanting, Violet succumbs. Lou pulls her towards her, kissing her, and Violet wraps her arms around Lou, pressing her hand against the small of Lou's back. 

Lou carefully pushes her down to the bed and Violet sinks down, away from all of the things making her want to run. 

 

 


	3. 3

When Debbie gets back to the loft, she finds Lou in the kitchen wearing a thin plaid bathrobe. 

"Nice robe," she says dryly, coming to the kitchen. "Who shot the couch?"

Lou chuckles lightly, shaking her head. 

"Mission accomplished?" she asks, as she goes about the kitchen grabbing plates and utensils. Chopsticks, Debbie notices. 

"Yep," Debbie replies, shrugging out of her coat. 

She hears a noise upstairs; looks up towards Lou's bedroom. 

"Visitor?" she asks.

"Violet," Lou replies, meeting her eye.

She takes the three plates and the handful of utensils to the table. 

"Violet," Debbie repeats, nodding slowly as she leans back against the counter. "So you  _are_ seeing someone."

"'Seeing' someone," Lou repeats, laughing. 

She finds the phrase ridiculous, and besides, she and Violet are much more than that. 

"I'm with someone," Lou replies. 

Debbie looks at her, a slight smile near her lips. 

"I thought so," she says, grinning at Lou when she turns to look at her. "Chuck Taylors by the front door. Holocaust book on your coffee table. Two coffee cups in your car."

Lou raises her brow, amused. 

"And you're happy," Debbie adds softly. 

The grin is gone as she stares at Lou. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," she says quietly. 

Lou regards her. There's something like regret in Debbie's stare. 

"I never made you that happy," she murmurs. 

Lou tilts her head, resting her weight on one hip; arms crossed over her chest. 

"We never made each other happy, that way," Lou replies easily. 

Debbie flicks her brow, her usual expression reappearing.

"Nope," she agrees, going towards the cupboards. "Just really fucking good at running cons together."

Lou chuckles, shaking her head. 

"What's your liquor situation?" Debbie asks. 

Lou points towards a shelf near the living room that holds a motley crew of bottles. 

The bedroom door opens upstairs and Lou turns, smiling when she sees Violet appear. 

The buzzer sounds; the food delivery guy. 

Lou goes to grab her wallet, near the kitchen, as Debbie peruses her drink choices. 

She winks at Violet as they pass; Violet steps off the last stair as Lou heads for the front door. 

She takes a breath, willing herself to not come across like an nervous idiot. 

She steps towards the kitchen, heading for the cupboard where the glasses are. 

Debbie looks over at her as she plucks a bottle of whisky from the shelf. 

"You must be Violet," she says.

She doesn't smile widely or offer a hug, and Violet hadn't expected her to. She's relieved that she doesn't. 

Debbie offers a hand, and Violet shakes it firmly. 

"Yeah," she replies, and then reaches for the cupboard. 

"It's nice to meet you," Debbie says, confident and calm, as she starts to unscrew the lid of the bottle. 

"You too," Violet replies, setting two glasses on the counter near Debbie's. "Lou's told me a lot about you."

Lou is back from the front door, bearing a bag of Chinese takeout boxes. 

"All good things, I hope," Debbie says, glancing at Lou. 

"Would be a short list," Lou replies dryly. 

Debbie cocks her head, giving Lou a dry look, and rolls her eyes. 

"She's hilarious, huh?" she looks at Violet. 

A smile blooms on her face and Debbie stares, almost surprised, as she gets a real look at the woman and sees how green her eyes are; how the smile transforms her entire face. 

She glances at Lou, who is looking at Violet with a look that she'd never given Debbie. 

"She's something," Violet replies to Debbie, and Debbie feels like she already likes her. 

Debbie holds the whisky bottle as she looks back at Violet. 

Violet glances at the bottle and meets Debbie's eye, direct and calm. 

Yes, she's been in prison for almost six years - where she excelled at intimidation - but Debbie has always had a somewhat intimidating air around her. Violet doesn't seem to be intimidated. Just curious and even unfazed by Debbie's stare. 

"You drink whisky?" Debbie asks, raising the bottle a little. 

"Yeah," Violet replies, reaching for napkins and handing them to Lou. "That's a good one. If you like Scottish, rather than Irish."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Debbie's mouth. She tips the bottle, pouring a generous amount into her glass. 

"I might be more partial to the Irish," Debbie replies, holding the bottle out. 

Violet smiles, turning her attention to filling the two glasses in front of her. 

"We all have our flaws," she says.

Her eyes meet Debbie's for a moment before returning to her task. Debbie's amusement is obvious on her face. 

She turns to look at Lou, who's standing there, arms crossed, with an entertained look on her face. Debbie raises her brow at her; Lou flicks hers back, going to sit at the table. 

Debbie likes Violet, and Lou can tell. Debbie always appreciates a pistol, and, despite her name, Violet is no shrinking violet. But Debbie doesn't necessarily come across like she likes you, even when she does. She's a difficult person to read. But Lou isn't too worried. She knows Violet.

Violet carries the two glasses to the table; sets one in front of Lou. Smiling, Lou reaches for her. She touches Violet's waist; her hands smooths along her body as Violet moves, sitting down. 

One of Violet's legs curls up under her. She can never sit in a chair properly. Lou thinks it's adorable. 

"You guys have the same affliction," Debbie says, nodding towards Violet's legs as she sits down. 

Amusement lighting up her eyes, Debbie glances at each of them as she reaches for a box. 

"You can't sit in a chair properly," she says. 

Lou chuckles, glancing at Violet, who grins into her glass as she takes a sip of whisky. 

Lou plucks three creepy bunny masks from the bottom of the bag. 

"Don't," Violet says, giving Lou a straight-faced look. 

"What the hell are those?" Debbie raises an eyebrow, the open box of noodles held above her plate. 

Lou is chuckling, lifting one mask and reaching out to cover Violet's eyes as she pulls the mask on and faces Debbie. 

"That's fucking terrifying," Debbie says evenly, and Lou laughs, pushing the mask up into her hair. 

It holds back some of the messy fringe of blonde hair. 

Violet brushes away Lou's hand, but Lou catches hers and squeezes it gently as she meets her eye, still chuckling softly. 

"It  _is_ fucking terrifying," Violet mutters, accepting a box that Lou hands her. 

Debbie continues spilling noodles onto her plate, glancing at Lou and then Violet. 

"So," she says, pushing the box to Lou and reaching for a new one. "How did you guys meet?"

Violet pushes a box of vegetables towards Debbie. They seem to have started an unplanned, clockwise rotation of the boxes. 

Debbie watches as Violet's features break into a smile, again transforming the indifferent expression to one of obvious beauty. 

She looks to Lou, finding her staring at the green-eyed woman with a mixture of adoration and amusement. 

"Bar brawl," Lou says, turning her eyes back to Debbie. 

Debbie raises her brow as Violet rolls her eyes. 

"It was not a brawl," she says, taking a sip of her drink. 

"The cops were gonna take her to the station and make her sleep it off there," Lou goes on, unable to keep a straight face. "I convinced them to sign her over to me."

Violet gives Lou a dry look that Debbie has to smile at, as she turns back to Lou. 

Lou laughs, taking a bite of noodles. 

"Three years ago," Lou tells Debbie. "At the club. I was upstairs and got a text that something was starting downstairs, so I headed down. Halfway down the stairs, I see the little crowd of people. Bunch of guys, mostly, and a few girls."

Debbie glances at Violet, who is absently scratching at a polished, black fingernail. 

"I heard a few words thrown back and forth, and then one of the guys pushed one of the girls, yelling something at her. And  _then_ , this skinny little dark-haired girl threw a punch faster than I've ever seen in person."

Debbie raises her brow, again looking to Violet. 

Violet meets her eye briefly and sort of shrugs dismissively. 

"This guy was about six feet tall," Lou goes on, "but the punch hit him right on the fucking nose and he went down like a sack of bricks."

Violet bites into a smile as Lou and Debbie both glance at her. The memory of the evening is a little fuzzy for her, but she remembers everything from the punch and after. 

"The guy's friends started getting rowdy. My bouncers were trying to grab them and toss them out. By the time I got down in the middle of things, there was only one guy left and he was just  _screaming_ at the girl."

The smile is gone from Lou's face, but she quickly moves the story along.

"The cops got there right after that. It was last call anyways, so everyone was getting shuttled out, and the one guy kept telling the cops that this girl needed to be arrested. That she'd attacked his friend."

Lou waves a dismissively, as if the very mention of the man is pesky and can be brushed away. 

"And the girl..." Lou murmurs, stopping to smile.

She looks down, grabbing a piece of broccoli with her chopsticks before looking up at Debbie. 

"Laid into him with some terms that...well, I hadn't heard before," Lou grins, slipping the broccoli into her mouth. 

She looks at Violet, her smile widening. 

"The cops were going to take her to the drunk tank, but I said she was one of my employees."

Debbie glances at Violet, trying to picture her all fired up; punching a large man in the face. The woman in front of her is calm and relaxed, as if nothing could possibly bother her. 

"They agreed to leave her with me, so I took her upstairs. Got some ice for the hand. Tried to give her a drink, because I knew it must hurt, but she accused me of watering down my vodka. So I gave her some water to counteract the fifth of whisky running through her veins."

Violet grins at this, rolling her eyes. 

"I was not that drunk," she gives Lou a look. 

Lou raises her brow, tilting her chin down a little as she stares at Violet. 

"You had two broken fingers and couldn't feel a fucking thing," Lou says. 

Surprised, Debbie's own brow raises. 

She, too, turns her gaze on Violet, but Violet just waves dismissively, rolling her eyes at Debbie as if to say,  _She's exaggerating._

"Anyway," Lou says after a moment, tearing her eyes from Violet to look back at Debbie. "The rest, as they say, is history."

" _Two_ broken fingers?" Debbie repeats, looking at Violet. 

"Cracked, probably," Violet says, shaking her head. 

"Broken," Lou says firmly, giving Violet a stern look. 

"There were no X-rays taken," Violet replies, raising an eyebrow. "So."

"So," Lou repeats, a loving look mixing in with her stern expression. "Make a fist."

Violet looks at her, not breaking eye contact as she brings a bite of noodles to her mouth. Unblinking. 

Lou laughs, reaching out and grabbing her right hand; the fork falls from it. 

"Go on," she orders, raising one eyebrow. 

Violet takes a deep breath, giving her a dry look, and makes a fist. Except it's not exactly a fist. Her index and middle fingers don't bend properly, making her fist look a little claw-like. 

Lou releases her wrist, staring into her eyes. Violet meets her stare before reaching for her fork. 

The look they share makes Debbie grin to herself. Lou Miller is deep in it. 

"So you just never went to the hospital?" Debbie asks, taking a bite. 

"No," Violet replies, as if this is a ridiculous idea; as if going to the hospital is preposterous. 

"Why not?" Debbie asks, glancing at Lou. 

Lou almost imperceptibly shakes her head. 

"I didn't need to," Violet replies, pushing food around her plate. "Nothing was falling off or bleeding. Much."

Lou snorts. 

"Much," she repeats. "That shirt you were wearing got thrown out that night."

Violet shrugs, inhaling deeply as she leans back, drink in hand. 

Debbie smiles to herself, liking the feisty brunette. 

"What did he say?" she asks then. 

Violet looks at her, questioning. 

"The guy. To make you punch him," Debbie clarifies. 

"Oh," Violet murmurs, adjusting in her chair. "Called my friends and I dykes. They were being creeps all fucking night, and when they realized that none of us were interested, their poor male egos got hurt."

Lou chuckles and Debbie smiles, small; amused. 

Violet is a bit of a puzzle, but not in a bad way. Debbie can see why Lou likes her. Loves her. She's good for Lou. 

She is not what Debbie was expecting, since laying eyes on the woman in the kitchen, less than 20 minutes ago.

Debbie frowns suddenly, remembering something. 

"How did you know she was watering down the vodka?"

Twin smirks appear on Lou's and Violet's face. 

"Not as innocent as she looks," Lou laughs lightly. 

Debbie raises her brow, looking from one of them to the other, waiting for more information. 

"She's not exactly unfamiliar with...bending rules," Lou says slowly, a mischievous grin on her face. 

"And it was pretty obviously watered down," Violet adds.

Debbie looks to Violet.

She wouldn't call it 'innocent', but she does have a certain look about her that would not peg her as naive. 

"What do you do?" Debbie asks, narrowing her eyes in thought. 

This must be where the answer is. 

Violet shrugs, taking a drink. 

"Not much, right now," she replies. 

Lou covers her own grin with her glass, tipping whisky into her mouth. 

"Managed to get her hands on a few bitcoins, over the last couple years," Lou supplies. 

Debbie stares. 

"The fuck is a bitcoin?" she frowns. 

"Cryptocurrency," Violet answers. "Just...electronic cash."

Debbie's frown remains. 

"So it doesn't actually exist?" she asks. 

"Not...tangibly," Violet replies. "But it does have worth."

Lou snorts again. 

"How much worth?" Debbie asks, intrigued. "How many did you steal?"

"What makes you think I stole them?" Violet asks, looking Debbie straight on. 

Debbie's almost taken aback. Violet has come across as calm, quiet, thoughtful. But this is the first spark she's seen in her eyes. 

Debbie maintains her constant reserve, staring back, curiously. 

"Am I wrong?" she asks. 

Violet surprises her again when a little grin tugs at one corner of her mouth. 

"No," she answers. "I...relieved some investors of a few of spares they had."

Debbie stares, her lips parting in surprise. 

She did not expect Lou's quiet, beautiful girlfriend to be a criminal. But her surprise is short-lived. She's mostly just impressed, but she'd never let on. 

"Okay," Debbie says, thinking; looking to Lou and then back at Violet. "So...how much?"

"Four hundred," Violet answers. 

Debbie looks at each of them again, waiting for more explanation. 

"Each one is worth just over $8000," Lou informs her. 

Debbie pauses, attempting fast math. 

"That's like..."

"Three million and change," Lou grins. 

Debbie turns her stare back on Violet. A look of respect seems to appear. 

Violet blushes a little. She hates being stared at. Lou reaches out and lays a hand on her forearm, squeezing. When Violet looks at her, Lou smiles and winks at her. 

"How did you...steal them?" Debbie frowns, having been trying to work this concept out in her head. 

"I had a little help," Violet answers. "A friend and I made this malware. I just had to...get it onto the right computers."

Debbie frowns. She hates feeling dumb, and none of this makes sense.

"Malware is like software," Lou tells her.

Debbie nods, still frowning.  

"You wear the right clothes and the right attitude, and people will let you in just about anywhere," Violet shrugs, nonchalant. 

Lou laughs, entirely amused by all of this. 

"So you snuck in to places, planted this...malware. And that's it?" Debbie clarifies. 

"Pretty much," Violet nods slowly, sipping her drink.

The information floats through Debbie's mind, and a slow smile appears. She looks at Lou, raising an eyebrow slightly. It takes a lot to impress Debbie Ocean, but Violet just did. 

"Incredible," Debbie mutters, looking at her drink. "And before that? What did you do?"

Debbie asks a lot of questions.Violet doesn't mind, but she doesn't like when questions keep getting directed at her, because she knows the path Debbie's going to take. 

"I was a cobbler," Violet replies, meeting her eye. 

Debbie's surprise makes her mouth open slightly, and then a laugh bubbles up from her throat. 

"What kind of fate just throws two con artists into each other's paths?" she laughs. 

Violet has to laugh, really thinking about the craziness of her and Lou meeting. 

"That's a beautiful love story," Debbie chuckles, finishing her drink. 

Lou and Violet share a grin. 

"Where'd you grow up?" Debbie asks suddenly.

Lou rolls her eyes, half-amused but mostly not about to let this line of questions start. She knows Violet hates talking about her family; her childhood. All of it. 

"Are you finished?" Lou asks, reaching for Debbie's plate as she stands. 

Debbie nods, looking at Violet. 

"So...not much on your plate right now," Debbie says after a moment. 

"Deb," Lou tilts her head at her. 

"What?" Debbie raises her brow. "She obviously has some skills that would be very helpful."

Lou takes a breath, glancing at Violet. She hasn't gotten a chance to tell Violet what Debbie told her this afternoon. 

"Helpful for what?" Violet asks, seeing Lou's hesitation. 

Debbie grins, glancing at Lou, and starts to talk. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
